


Nutcracker

by Thilien



Series: 31 Days of Ineffables Ficlets [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 31 Days of Ineffables, Attempt at Humor, Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Christmas Shopping, Ficlet, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:07:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21661936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thilien/pseuds/Thilien
Summary: "Crowley casts another glance over the nutcracker. It is, he thinks, clearly a result of demonic intervention that anything so hideous could ever be deemed festive. It was probably Ligur’s idea."Aziraphale has managed to persuade his demon to accompany him Christmas shopping. But who on earth would want a decorative nutcracker with a manic grin and a clashing uniform? Aziraphale thinks he knows just the person...A little bit of fun for day three of Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables. Prompt: Nutcracker
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Sergeant Shadwell/Madame Tracy (Good Omens)
Series: 31 Days of Ineffables Ficlets [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559806
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	Nutcracker

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to the wonderful Drawlight for coming up with the prompt list. This one had me stumped until I saw a truly awful nutcracker doll design and immediately wondered who would ever buy such a thing - and then, as if by some form of divine inspiration (or possible demonic intervention), the answer came to me! 
> 
> Needless to say, I don't own any of this - just borrowing and playing with it for a while. All the good stuff belongs to Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchell and to the marvellously talented people who bought the book to life so wonderfully for us all.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are VERY much appreciated. Thank you for reading and enjoy! x

**Nutcracker**

Crowley was having considerably more fun than expected. 

Much as he loved his angel, the thought of spending an afternoon Christmas shopping pushed even his devotion to the limits. But it turned out that, in addition to the sheer delight that came from watching Aziraphale fuss over whether Anathema would prefer a notebook designed to look like a book of spells or a gift set of dribbly candles and incense (Crowley had voted for the candles and incense - Jasmine Cottage always reeked of the stuff and the witch had candles on most available surfaces), there was a lot of fun to be had for a demon in winding up other, equally bored and increasingly irritable Christmas shoppers. Crowley had taken particular delight in ensuring that a beetroot-faced older man, who had spent five minutes haranguing a tearful assistant over the fact that the store no longer stocked his favourite type of cheese biscuit, tripped and dropped the expensive bottle of wine he’d just purchased, causing it to smash instantaneously. 

He was just contemplating whether Aziraphale would notice if he caused one of the heels to snap inexplicably on the expensive-looking shoes belonging to a pushy woman who had just forcibly elbowed a small boy to get at the last copy of this year’s ‘must-have’ computer game, when he noticed the angel waving him over to a display of traditional festive goods. As he sauntered over, forcing himself to keep the grin off his face at the outraged cry of “But these shoes are _designer!_ ” behind him, he noticed that the angel was holding what looked like a small wooden soldier. 

A small wooden soldier with a slightly terrifying moustache, faux snowy beard and an alarming set of painted teeth. 

“No offence angel but...what in Hell’s name is that?”

Aziraphale looked momentarily confused.

“It’s a nutcracker. You put the nuts between its teeth and it de-shells them.”

“I realise that angel. But why does it look like _that_ exactly?”

Crowley casts another glance over the nutcracker. It is, he thinks, clearly a result of demonic intervention that anything so hideous could ever be deemed festive. It was probably Ligur’s idea. 

The thought must show in his face because Aziraphale says, “You don’t like it?”

Crowley toys with the idea of lying but decides against it. For starters, the angel would probably be able to tell. More importantly, despite the fact that he’s a demon and the ability to dissemble is practically seared through his bones, he never has lied to Aziraphale and he isn’t about to start now. 

“Angel, it’s hideous.”

To Crowley’s immense surprise, Aziraphale beams delightedly. 

“It is, isn’t it?”

Crowley raises a questioning eyebrow.

“And....that’s a good thing?”

“Well…” the angel begins innocently, “I was thinking of Madame Tracy and Sergeant Shadwell.” 

A grin pulls at the edge of Crowley’s mouth. Really, the angel is quite wicked when he wants to be. He thinks, immediately, of Tracy and Shadwell’s new bungalow down on the south coast. The one that had been decorated, at Tracy’s insistence, in gloriously mismatched shades of turquoise, lime and fuchsia. Shadwell, besotted though he was with his ex-jezebel, had grumbled at some length about his fiancee’s preference for ostentatious decoration when they’d been invited down for tea (at the insistence of Tracy) a few weeks before. 

“But she will have her way,” the former witchfinder had muttered, quickly bringing the conversation to an end as Tracy came bustling in, arms laden with a tray filled to brimming with a mismatched china tea service and, to Aziraphale’s delight, a plate of petit-fours. 

“What was it you were saying to Mr Crowley and Mr Aziraphale, my dear?” Tracy had asked, once they’d all settled down with tea (or, in Crowley’s case, the strong black coffee that he’d immediately miracled his tea into). 

“Oh, nothing dear. Just...just telling them about how much you’ve done to the place since we’ve been here.” 

Shadwell had had the good grace to look slightly shamefaced as Tracy delightedly launched into her plans for finishing off, sinking ever so slightly further into his chair as she detailed at great length the floral curtain fabric she’d found that would be just perfect for the main bedroom.

“And it’s going to be so cosy at Christmas. I do so love decorations - the more the merrier. I’ve already got a lovely light-up Santa for outside…”

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale had missed Shadwell’s obvious panic at this revelation. But, as had been clear from the first moment they’d arrived, there was no way that the love-struck sergeant would ever dare tell Tracy so. 

So now, staring down at the violently painted nutcracker doll, with its crazed wizard hair and maniacal grin, Crowley was torn between envisioning Tracy’s utter delight at the gift and Shadwell’s barely suppressed horror. 

“Angel,” he said, leaning in to give Aziraphale a peck on the cheek, “I think it’s perfect.”


End file.
